


Don't You Run Away

by adeadlynightshade



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Unrequited Love-ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3262235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adeadlynightshade/pseuds/adeadlynightshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now, Barry had <em>no clue</em> what to do. Call him back? Confess everything? Call Tommy and ask for help? <em>No. I can't. When he gets back, we'll figure it all out.</em> And, for now, that sounded like the best thing to do. Barry was going to wait for Oliver. Like he had always done.</p><p> But then, Oliver <em>doesn't</em> come back.</p><p>Also known as: the <em>Barry knew Oliver before the island</em> AU that no one asked for!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slipped Away

**Author's Note:**

> This AU has been stuck in my head for a while now, so I figured I'd just write it. And yes, I did change some things around, but just for the purpose of this story. Pardon me if it doesn't make sense. Enjoy!

Barry can't remember when he fell in love with Oliver. It was like one day, he was willing to hang out with Oliver and Laurel and Tommy, and the next, he wants Oliver all to himself.

 

But, he can estimate. He was positive that it occurred sometime after his mother's murder and his father's imprisonment.  After that, he couldn't stand living in Central City anymore and, much to Detective West's disappointment, went to move in with an aunt in Starling City. His aunt was a bit older than his mother was, and between her sister's death and her own recent diagnosis of breast cancer, she was practically unreachable. Barry was basically on his own.

 

Until he met Oliver, of course.

 

He can't even remember  _how_ they met. Tommy was always saying that he and Oliver had gotten into some type of argument at the park, but Barry couldn't believe it because he could _never_ imagine himself  _not_ getting along with Oliver. But however they  _actually_ met, Barry was super grateful for it, because he not only had some new friends, but a second family too. Which was fine at first.

 

Until they grew up. And all of a sudden, whenever Barry looked into Oliver's eyes, he didn't see just a friend-he saw something new, something scary, something  _more_.  _  
_

It wasn't much, though-at least,  _at first_. It was just the distant thought of  _what if?_ But all of a sudden, everyone was an adult and Barry was going off to college in Central while Oliver and Tommy were getting themselves into trouble at home.

 

"Are you coming back?" Oliver asked him while he was packing.

 

"Of course," Barry responded with a smile, "There's no place I'd rather be."

 

"Ugh, don't get all sappy on my, Bar." He laughed, and Barry blushed. _Of course Barry_ , he scolded himself,  _Always gotta make things worse._ "But seriously, Barry. You  _have_ to come back."

 

Barry froze. "I  _am_ coming back. But if I  _wasn't_ -" He took a deep breath, "Why would you want me to come back?"

 

Judging by Oliver's sad smile, Barry's question was a dumb one. "You're my best friend," Oliver said, and Barry felt a stab of hurt.  _Best friend_ , he repeated the words in his head,  _I'm his best friend._ But Tommy was his best friend too, and Laurel and Sara were his best friends too. He wanted to be something  _more_ to Oliver, something no one else could claim.

 

"Trust me," Barry said with a smile, "I'll be back, Ollie."

 

Oliver didn't say anything. He just pulled Barry into a tight hug. Barry assumes that it was then when he _really_ fell in love with Oliver, although he had no clue why Oliver wanted him to stay so much. Because he wasn't buying that "best friend" crap. Maybe Oliver just needed Barry like Barry needed Oliver.

 

So, he was off to college. Going back home wasn't a terrible experience; turns out time could heal some wounds. When college was over, however, Barry swiftly returned to Starling to find that nothing had really changed. Except one tiny thing:

 

Oliver had started dating Laurel.

 

That was a new kind of torture. He thought that he had seen it all-his mother being murdered before his eyes, his father going to prison for life because of it-but watching someone you love be happy with someone else was agony that Barry didn't think he could take. And they looked so damn  _happy_ together; Barry figured that that's what he got for leaving Oliver.

 

"Congrats on you and Laurel," Barry piped up one night when they were all hanging out. Laurel seemed so cozy by Oliver's side, and Oliver's smile was beaming. "Didn't think you had it in you, Ollie. Being with  _one woman at a time_."

 

Oliver laughed the joke off. "Things change, Allen. Right?"

 

 _Of course._ "Yeah. They do."

 

It took a few weeks, but Barry had finally shoved his feelings about Oliver to the back of his head and opted to figure out what he was going to do career wise. Tommy and Oliver had no plans of doing  _anything_ , Sara was still in school and Laurel had plans to go to law school. Barry had decided (for whatever reason) to ask Oliver for his opinion.

 

"Don't you like science?" Oliver asked him while he played around with one of Barry's models of an atom. Barry's room was a mess, but he never makes an effort to clean it up because what would be the point? It's not like anyone tells him to clean up anyway.

 

"Well, yeah, but I don't know what to do," Barry sighed, "I'm thinking about becoming a forensic scientist here in Starling, but-"

 

"You wanna work with cops?"

 

"They aren't cops!" Barry clarified with a laugh. "They don't even carry guns. Just some plastic baggies."

 

Oliver smiled and placed the model back on Barry's dresser. "I, um, I gotta tell you something," he said, his voice low, "And _please_ don't tell anyone." He inched closer to Barry, and Barry's heart leaped to his throat. "So, my father's taking a trip to China on the Queen's Gambit. And I wanna go with him."

 

Barry frowned. He just got back from college to find that the love of his life is dating someone else, and now he wants to go all the way to  _China_? "Why?"

 

Oliver shrugged. "Sounds fun."

 

"Ollie, you have things, _people_ , to stay for," Barry pointed out. He hoped that it sounded like he was talking about Laurel and  _not_ himself. "Why would you just  _leave_ them?" 

 

"I don't  _know_ , Barry," he answered, his voice rising, "I just, I need to get away for a bit. I love Laurel, really I do, but I'm-" He stopped talking and instead stared intently into Barry's eyes, so much that it was kind of scaring him. Barry was about to ask what's wrong when Oliver lightly presses his lips onto Barry's.

 

Barry hadn't seen it coming, but once his brain seemed to register the fact that  _OLIVER QUEEN IS KISSING ME,_ Barry moved his hands to cup Oliver's cheeks. And this is  _so much better_ than  _any_ of Barry's fantasies, because Oliver's hands were trailing down his back and Oliver was eagerly pushing his back onto the bed. Barry had deepened the kiss, and Oliver was moaning, and there was  _nothing_ in this world that could make Barry forget this.

 

It was when Oliver began kissing Barry's neck and unbuttoning Barry's shirt when it hit him.  _Oh...Oliver Queen is_ kissing  _me._

 

"Oliver, no," he tried to say, but it all came out as a moan. Oliver was heading back to his lips, and Barry had somehow found the strength to break the kiss and say, "We can't do this."

 

"Huh?" Oliver's voice was raspy, and his eyes were dark. "What do you mean?"

 

Barry responds with a breathy, "Laurel. She would kill the  _both_ of us."

 

Oliver frowned and moved from the bed. "Well Laurel didn't stop you from wanting to do this with me before!" Oliver responds. He sounds-angry? Disappointed?  _  
_

Barry stood up. He couldn't really answer that one. So Oliver knew how he had felt? He thought that he was doing a pretty good job of concealing it. "So what?" Barry said when he could finally speak. "You were doing this for  _me_?"

 

"No! I-" Oliver sighed. "I wanted it too."

 

Barry doesn't even _want_ to think about what that could mean. "Oliver, I don't know what's gotten into you," He said, and he cringed as he added, "or what we are, but all I know is that going on this boat with your father will change everything."

 

"I'll be back, Bar. Nothing to worry about." Oliver sighed again. "We'll talk about what we are when I get back."

 

Silence. Then, "Okay." With that, Oliver leaves.

 

Now, Barry had  _no clue_ what to do.  Call him back? Confess everything? Call Tommy and ask for help?  _No. I can't. When he gets back, we'll figure it all out._ And, for now, that sounded like the best thing to do. Barry was going to wait for Oliver. Like he had always done.

 

But then, Oliver _doesn't_ come back.


	2. Welcome Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback guys! Just a bit of a head's up, Barry's a tiny bit mean and bitter in this chapter (I guess), although I'll try my best to still make him the Barry Allen we all know and love! Also, this is set before Oliver becomes the Vigilante, so yeah.

"So, you  _aren't_ going back to Starling?" Iris asks. She watches Barry continue to drink his coffee, and when he doesn't answer, she punches him lightly on the shoulder. "Come on, Barry! You said it yourself. Tommy and Laurel and Thea _really_ miss you."

 

Barry frowns as he drinks more of his coffee, a bit too fast because the cup is steaming hot. "If they miss me so much, why don't they visit me?"

 

"Well, you were the one to move," Iris points out, "And I'm sure they're busy crying about Oliver to hop on the bus and come all the way over here."

 

Barry winces. He cringes at the  _very thought_ of Oliver Queen now. Oliver Queen, he  _hates_ Oliver Queen. He left his family, his friends, his girlfriend, to go on some stupid boat with  _his girlfriend's sister_. Does he feel bad that Oliver died? Yes, of course. But it wasn't like he didn't deserve it.

 

"They have their ways of coping," Barry responds, loud enough that he thinks that all of Jitter's heard him, although at this point, he doesn't really care, "I have mine."

 

"Which is what?" Iris asks sarcastically, "Drinking coffee and burying your feelings?"

 

Barry can't argue with that one.

* * *

Barry was trying to get drunk when his cell phone rang. He's so frustrated that he actually exclaims, " _Why?_ " out loud. He doesn't look at who's calling when he picks up the phone because it doesn't  _matter_ to him who's calling-they're going to get yelled at anyway. "Hello?" he hisses.

 

"Hey Barry."

 

Barry sits up in his bed and clears his throat. "Oh. Hi Laurel." Laurel Lance was the  _last_ person Barry expected to hear from right now. "Sorry about that. I was, um, tired. What's up?"

 

"Nothing," Laurel responds, and her voice has taken a light, melancholy tone, and Barry can hear her sigh over the phone. 

 

"You okay?" Barry asks, "Do you need me to come over?"

 

Barry was secretly hoping she would say no, because comforting Laurel about Oliver was something he couldn't do. He remembers when she called Barry, her voice cracking as she spoke. "Sara went with him! Sara's dead too!" And Barry had to go to, not one, but _two_ funerals to comfort his friends. Tommy, Thea and Mrs. Queen were the easy ones. It was Laurel who he couldn't help too well. And he knows it's because of the fact that Oliver was planning on cheating on her with him, and he was going to let him.

 

"No, I-" Laurel clears her throat before adding, "Turn on the news.  _Now._ " Then she hangs up without another word.

 

With an exasperated sigh, Barry turns on his TV. There's the same old newsman there; he's usually talking on and on about Central City's stock market, but now there is a whole new story. At first, the words don't make sense, and nothing clicks until he reads out loud the headline, his voice not rising above a whisper.

 

"Oliver's alive, Barry."

* * *

Barry doesn't feel anything about it at first. He can't. He  _won't_. Oliver didn't deserve that.

 

But it isn't until they meet for the first time in five years when all the emotions that Barry wouldn't let himself feel come rushing over him like a tidal wave.

 

It's a Saturday, and Barry, Joe and Iris are enjoying a good movie (no matter how long ago it came out, watching  _Final Destination_ would never get old) when there's a knock on the door. Iris graciously volunteers to get it, and Barry pays no mind to the door until Iris says, "Oliver Queen," in a voice lined with disbelief.

 

Barry's head whips towards the door so fast that, for a moment, he suspects that he has whiplash.  _I must have_ something, he thinks,  _Because Oliver somehow knows where I live and is standing at my door right now._

 

But Oliver  _is_ standing at his door, smiling that same damn smile that Barry had fell in love with so long ago, and he's saying, "Yep, that's me. I hate to bother you, but is Barry home?" He turns his head, and his eyes meet Barry's for the first time in five years. His hair is short-cropped, not long and stringy like it was before, and those blue eyes lacked the brightness and naivety that they had the last time Barry looked into them.

 

 _It's been too long_ , Barry can't help but think.

 

"Hi," Oliver says, his voice now taking a lighter tone.

 

"Hey," Barry responds, and despite his best efforts, he smiles a bit.

 

"Maybe you two could take a walk," Joe suggests, and when Barry turns and frowns at him, he says, "Iris and I will be fine here." Joe's eyes, however, say  _You have to talk to him Barry._

 

He couldn't argue with that, so Barry stands and joins Iris and Oliver at the doorway. "We'll be right back," Oliver reassures, and with that, he and Barry leave.

 

They don't talk at first, probably because there's a lot of things to say but no one's brave enough to say it. Well, Barry's not brave enough to say it, he doesn't know about Oliver. Finally, Barry speaks up, his voice not much higher than a whisper. "I guess I haven't been watching the news lately."

 

"Yeah, I guess you haven't." Oliver awkwardly laughs. "They found me on an island in the North China Sea. Lian Yu."

 

"Five years on a deserted island," Barry says, "Must've been hell." When Oliver doesn't respond, Barry quickly adds, "Sorry! That was my crappy way of sympathizing with you. I-"

 

"We seriously need to talk." Oliver's voice has taken a grim tone and he has stopped walking. Barry sighs and turns to face his friend (friend? Was Oliver still a friend? Only time will tell, he guesses), and Oliver frowns. "I told you, we would talk when we got back."

 

"There's nothing to talk about," Barry answers. "You tried to use me for sex, Oliver. So I think it's safe to say that I  _don't_ want to date you anymore."

 

Oliver winces. "I actually came here to apologize." 

 

Okay, Barry  _hadn't_ actually seen that one coming. He crosses his arms and urges Oliver to continue with his eyes. 

 

"Barry, you know who I was before I left. I was selfish. I was naive. I was a  _terrible_ person." Oliver sighs. "But in those five years, I learned a lot. And one thing that I learned was that, to put it lightly, being alone  _sucks_. What I'm trying to say is, I don't want to be alone ever again. And in order for that to happen, I have to show people that the boy I was before is gone." Barry had given Oliver only a minute to explain himself in his head, but as a minute turns into two, Barry finds that it's  _impossible_ to tell Oliver to shut up. His voice is so light, so serious, so utterly  _broken_ that all hostile feelings towards Oliver were starting to be chipped away.

 

But, Oliver can't know that, so Barry says, "Well, you certainly  _sound_ regretful."

 

"I  _am_ regretful," Oliver responds. He steps closer to Barry, and he thinks that Oliver smells nice,  _really_ nice _._ "I'm sorry for everything I've done, and how I've hurt you. Believe it or not, I still do wanna be friends with you."

 

And that's when the feelings come rushing back. The sudden anger that Oliver only saw Barry as a friend. God, Oliver was willing to _cheat on his girlfriend_ with him, and here he is, back from the dead and wanting to  _be friends_ still?

 

 _But he's different now, apperantly_ , Barry tells himself,  _He wants to pretend it never happened._

 

"So, what you're saying is," Barry asks, "You want to start over?"

 

Oliver smiles. "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."

 

 _Starting over,_ Barry thinks,  _Gotcha. So, where are we starting from, the part where I fell in love with you and tried desperately to shove the feelings away?_ Barry wants to kick himself in the face. This is him being jealous and bitter. 

 

To prove that he can, in fact, wipe the slate clean with Oliver, Barry beams, "Okay then. Starting over begins-" He pauses dramatically, then exclaims, " _Now!_ " Then, he extends a hand and says, "Hi! How are you? My name is Barry Allen."

 

Oliver looks at him, an unreadable smile on his face. Then he takes Barry's hand and pulls him into one of the tightest hugs that he has ever received.

 

He hugs Oliver back instantly. It's a reflex, something he has to do.

 

"I'm Oliver Queen," whispers Oliver in Barry's ear.

 

God help him, Barry's on the verge of tears. "Nice to meet you, Oliver Queen."

 

"Nice to meet you too, Barry Allen."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh, I'm not feeling this chapter. Although next chapter's gonna be better, I promise.


	3. Count Your Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! School and writer's block kicked my ass. But I was inspired by 3x13 and I had to write! Hope you guys like this one! Also, there's some violence so heads up.

Barry begins to hear the whispers. **Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn kidnapped, Saved by a mysterious hooded vigilante. Hooded vigilante takes down corrupt millionaire Adam Hunt. Royal Flush Gang taken down by hooded vigilante.** Barry had to admit, he was quite fascinated. Whoever this hooded vigilante was, he was trying to do good, and Barry respected that. Barry decides to bring up the topic during one of his afternoons with Oliver. He lives in Starling. Surely he's heard the stories.

 

"Why are you so captivated by him?" Oliver responds, "He's a lunatic who runs around shooting people with arrows, claiming he's trying to  _save_   _his city_." 

 

"Maybe he actually  _is_ saving his city," Barry rebuttals. Oliver actually laughs and takes another bite out of his burger. "So there's a cool vigilante running around Starling City,  _helping people_ , and to you he's a _lunatic_?"

 

 Oliver shrugs. "I guess you've been so occupied by fantasizing about the Vigilante that you completely forgot about the new club I'm opening."

 

"From what I've heard,  _Tommy's_ the one doing all the work," Barry teases, "And besides, nightclubs aren't really my thing."

 

"Just this once, Barry," Oliver begs, and Barry sighs. "That's a yes, isn't it?"

 

"A reluctant one, yeah," Barry responds, and he can't help but smile because, maybe, things will go back to the way they were.

* * *

 

He's wrong, or course, because he goes to the Verdant and Oliver is nowhere to be found.

 

"He said he had something to take care of," Tommy tells him, and Barry frowns. "Sorry."

 

Barry goes home. There's no point in staying.

 

"So the nightclub didn't work out, huh?" Iris asks over the phone when he gets to his hotel.

 

"I didn't feel like staying," is Barry's bitter response. 

 

After the phone call, he spends the night doing more research on the Vigilante. (Why would he wear green if black would be better for stealth purposes? Maybe he trained in some sort of jungle environment?) That same night, the Vigilante busts a prostitution ring, and he gets a late night phone call from Oliver himself.

 

"I'm so sorry I couldn't make it," Oliver apologizes, "I had to take care of some business."

 

"It's okay," Barry answers, "I got some work done, so it's all good."

 

Oliver chuckles over the phone. "Same old Barry Allen."

 

His tone is sharp when he responds with, "Wish I could same the same about you, Ollie," before hanging up.

 

Sleep didn't come easily to Barry, so he decides to go for a walk to clear his mind. The wind is sharp and cold, but he didn't plan on being out for long. He just wanted to forget the last few years. He just wanted to forget Oliver. He can't do that, of course, because Oliver's hell bent on _making things right_. But how is inviting your friend to a crowded nightclub and not showing up making things right?

 

He's so lost in thought he didn't notice that someone was behind until an arm was wrapped around his neck, a needle was jammed into his neck, and a voice taunts in his ear, "You're gonna lead me straight to him." Everything becomes a blur before his vision goes black.

* * *

Barry wakes tied to a chair in a dark, cold, dingy room. "Hello?" he calls, and his echos answer him. He twists his hands against the tight rope, pulling against the rope wrapped around his stomach. "Hello? Someone help me!"

 

"You look like a good guy." The same voice that taunted him before he blacked out taunts him now. There are the echos of footsteps before a man steps into view. "So tell me, what would make you want to hang out with a guy like the Vigilante?"

 

"What are you talking about? I don't know the Vigilante." Barry can't stop his voice from shaking. 

 

"Correction, you _think_ you don't know the Vigilante." Count Vertigo walks off, and Barry finds himself staring at a camera. "Well, maybe you _don't_ know the Vigilante." He puts another needle to Barry's neck and flashes a remote control in his hands. "But you'll know him soon enough." He hits the "record" button on the remote and tosses it aside. "Hello Starling City! This is the Count speaking. And  _this_ \--" He points to Barry, "--is a young innocent man. I don't even know his name." He turns his head and faces Barry. "What  _is_ your name?"

 

His voice is almost unrecognizable as he answers, "Barry Allen."

 

"Barry Allen," Count Vertigo echos, then he presses the needle slowly into his neck. "If I don't see the Vigilante in 2 hours, Barry Allen gets a lethal dose of Vertigo. But for now, he'll just get a small taste of the drug that's all the rage. He slowly injects the Vertigo, and the pain is so searing that Barry has to scream. Everything is a blur and his ears ring. He can barely make out Count Vertigo messing with the camera and turning to face him.

 

Then the black room swirls into the Verdant, and the Count fades into Oliver Queen.

 

"Oliver?" Barry's voice is shaky.

 

"Why do you hate me?" His voice is low, and he can barely hear him over the sounds of the nightclub. And yet, all that sound was white noise, because Oliver's voice was so unbelievably clear.

 

"No. No! I don't hate you, Ollie." Barry tries to move, tries to reach out to him, but he can't so much as twitch. Only his mouth moves as he says, "I love you, Ollie," and his eyes blink as he tries to make the tears go away.

 

"You're lying." Oliver seems incapable of movement as well, because he just stands right before Barry without moving an inch, even as people maneuver around him. "I'm trying to make this right, trying to  _fix_ things, and you only seem to push me away, to hold me at a distance."

 

"Ollie, I'm  _trying_ , okay?"

 

"I came back for you!" His voice rises suddenly, then lowers to a mutter as he says, "If you wanted me gone, you could've just told me to leave." With that, Oliver turns and mopes away.

 

Barry can't stop the tears. " _Oliver, no! Don't leave me again, please! I love you!_ "

 

"Calm down." The Verdant is gone, and the dark room is back. No one stands before him, but the Vigilante's voice is calm and smooth in his ear. "I'm here to help you." '

 

Things are still a blur, but Barry can still feel the tears sliding down his face. "Where am I? Count Vertigo! He--" _  
_

"I know what he did," the Vigilante informs him, "All of Starling City knows. He broadcasted you getting injected with Vertigo all across the city." He frees Barry's hands and begins to work on the rope around his waist. _So the whole city saw me confess my love for Oliver?_ he manages to ask himself. The Vigilante seems to read his mind ans adds, "Don't worry, he cut it after that."

 

The Vigilante frees the ropes, and his comforting warmth is suddenly gone. Barry turns, and he finds that the Vigilante is on the other side of the room.  _He probably doesn't have a mask. No mask? So how does he conceal his identity? Just the hood and the dark lighting?_ "Follow me," the Vigilante instructs, "I can get you out of here."

 

Barry tries to stand, but his legs are wobbly and he almost collapses to the cold floor. He hasn't stood in probably hours, and the Vertigo isn't helping much. Before he can fall, the Vigilante is there, holding him up. He finds the strength to turn his head, and--

 

It's the Vertigo. Because the Vigilante is gone, and there's Oliver Queen, dressed in a fancy business suit, wearing that charming smile that got him into this mess in the first place. "I'm not going to leave you, Barry," he says, "Not again."

 

"Oliver...that's all I want." Barry whispers.

 

Oliver's smile grows even brighter. "Duck."

 

"What?"

 

" _Duck._ " Then the Vigilante is throwing himself at Barry and knocking them both to the cold, hard floor as a gunshot rings out. The Vigilante is at Count Vertigo instantly, and Barry struggles to stand as the sounds of combat echo off the walls. When he does get up, everything spins, and somehow he ends up with the Count's arm wrapped around his neck and a gun to the side of his head. The Vigilante has an arrow aimed and the Count's head, and for a moment, everything is silent.

 

Then, Count Vertigo asks, "Do you know who the Vigilante is, Barry Allen?"

 

Barry may be kind of out of it, but he's not stupid. It would explain why Oliver wasn't at the Verdant and how the Vigilante took out bad guys in his absence. Green! The island! It all makes sense!

 

The Vigilante and Oliver--they're the same person.

 

"Yes," Barry whispers, "I think I do." He can't see the Vigilante's face, but he  _can_ see the way his clenches his jaws.

 

"Good," Count Vertigo whispers for the both of them to hear, "Now you'll know who to blame for your death." He cocks his gun, and Barry shuts his eyes, preparing for his vision to goblack forever. But there's nothing, nothing but wind whizzing past his face, a gun clattering as it hit the ground and the pressure around his neck going away. Barry's eyes snap open and he knows that the Vertigo isn't affecting his vision.

 

There's an arrow in between Count Vertigo's eyes. He's dead. And the Vigilante-- _Oliver_ \--killed him.

 

Barry turns back, and sees that Oliver has removed his hood and  _yes,_ _it's_   _him._ It's his best friend, who came back and decided to put  _arrows_ in people? "Barry," Oliver says, and his voice is so unlike the Vigilante's (voice changer-- _of course_ ). "I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you. You wouldn't have forgiven me."

 

There are sirens in the distance, but Barry only cared about this, whatever  _this_ is. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

 

Oliver shakes his head. "It's better that way."

 

"Of course it is. Secrets and lies. Deep down, that's who you  _really_ are, Oliver!"

 

"A few days ago you we're the Vigilante's biggest fan!"

 

"Because I would never in a million years think that _my best friend_ would murder people and call it heroism!"

 

"He was going to kill you!" Oliver sighs before lowering his voice to just above a whisper and adding, "I couldn't live with myself if that happened." 

 

Silence. Then Barry responds with a resounding, "Don't contact me, Oliver. I need my distance." Barry watches Oliver--he doesn't move at first, then he puts back on his hood and shoots an arrow into the ceiling. There's a rope, and it pulls him up. Barry watches as Oliver vanishes into the night.

 

Oliver left him again. Only this time, Barry told him too. As the cops and medics pour in and help him into an ambulance, he can't help but think that this time hurt way more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally closed this tab without saving the chapter, so this is my second attempt at writing this chapter. If it sucks at all, it's completely my fault for being so stupid. Also, Barry's Arrow episodes before he becomes the Flash are next, and I'm going to change some of that as well. Stay tuned.


	4. The Torture of Small Talk

Barry avoids Starling at all costs. He only shows up after the Quake, at Tommy's funeral. He feels a sting of guilt as he says his last goodbye.  _I should've been there. Maybe I could've helped him._ He heard the Vigilante tried to save him, but was too late.

 

Of course he was.

 

He saw Oliver once at the funeral. They exchanged an awkward greeting before Barry said, "He was a good friend."

 

"Yeah. He was." Then Oliver sulked off. At least he didn't make things any worse than they were.

 

But other than that, avoiding Starling was pretty easy. Iris and Joe worry about him a lot though, mostly because he starts talking about his mother and the impossible thing that killed her. But he's fine. He's just doing something that she should've done a long time ago.

 

That lead him to the mysterious break-in at Queen Consolidated's Applied Sciences Division. He did his research and came up with this--a dude with super strength stole something from his ex-something's company. Just his luck that trying to get justice for his father would lead him straight to the man he'd been avoiding for so long. He should've drowned his sorrows in alcohol instead. Being drunk would be easier than returning to Starling.

 

But he does it anyway, and two buses, two cabs, and a dirty rainwater shower latter, he finds himself entering the crime scene. Oliver is already there.  _His company, right,_ Barry reminds himself.

 

They're talking about how an entire crew robbed the place, and Barry has to take a deep breath before interrupting them with, "Actually it was only one guy." They all turn, and Barry instinctively gazes at Oliver--he looks older, tired, worn-out, he assumes that vigilantism will do that to you. He's flanked by Detective Lance (in a police uniform?) and two people he's never met before.

 

So the Vigilante has a team? Is that why the whole "stay away from me" thing worked out much easier than Barry had been expecting? Well, as Barry had to find out the hard way, there isn't a shortage of criminals in Starling City. Oliver Queen has a surplus of people to kill--a surplus of reminders of what he lost.

 

Barry shoves the thought into the back of his head (to whip out during a future spar between him and Oliver, because those _were_ coming, he could sense it) and decides to analyze the crime scene. Footprints indented into the cement floor, the velocity in which the guards' heads were snapped, it all points to one _really strong_ guy.

 

And, because he can, he finally looks up at Oliver and asks, "I'm guessing you don't know how hard it is to break someone's neck."

 

Oliver's, "Hmm? No. No idea," brings Barry's some sort of sweet satisfaction.

 

"Allen!" Detective Lance exclaims and pulls Barry into a hug. "Long time no see. And, before you ask, _yes_ , I am now an officer."

 

"Awww," Barry says, "What got you demoted?"

 

"Working with the Vigilante," Officer Lance responds, and Barry's smile fades away. _Sweet, the Vigilante's ruining_ everyone's _life now_. "But enough about me, why are you here?"

 

"I work for the Central City Police Department," Barry answers, sounding and looking a bit too professional as he whips out his badge, "They sent me."

 

"What are you? A cop?" the blonde woman next to Oliver asks, and Barry can't help but laugh.

 

"Nope, forensic scientist. I don't even carry around a gun. Just some plastic baggies." He makes the blonde woman laugh, Officer Lance smile, and Oliver frown.

 

"Barry, can we talk for a second?" Oliver asks suddenly, and something in his tone sends a shiver up Barry's spine. He doesn't scare him--it's not like he's going to put an arrow in his back right? So he lets Oliver lead Barry away from the crowd, and Oliver lowers his voice when he asks, "What are you doing here?"

 

"There's a similar case in Central City, and I've been sent to investigate. This visit has absolutely _nothing_ to do with you." Barry's lying through his teeth, and feels bad about it for a moment. But he has no intentions of telling Oliver that he's here to make sense of this because of his mother. Oliver would feel bad for him, and Barry does not want his pity. But Barry _does_ feel bad about all the shots he's taken at Oliver, so he asks him, "So, who are your friends?"

 

"There's my black driver John Diggle and my assistant Felicity Smoak."

 

"They seem nice. And do they know about our friend the Vigilante?"

 

"They help me out, actually."

 

Barry had figured that. Oliver had to have had someone specializing in computers, and that has to be Felicity. And he did get arrested for being the Hood but got off when he was spotted somewhere else--that must've been Mr. Diggle. Barry nods, and he can feel things begin to get awkward again. If he and Oliver don't have anything to discuss, it'll just lead to a terrible silence, and God knows that Barry hates the silence between them, because before everything, there used to be no silence. Everything was so simple.

 

And Oliver had to ruin all of it.

 

So Barry cuts through the silence with a stern, "I have work to do," and sulks off.

* * *

 Working this case hurt enough. Having Oliver/The Vigilante working the same case only makes things worse.

 

"Come on, please?" Felicity begs. She's been asking him to join the team in the Arrow Cave (a name that Barry is _positive_ that Oliver doesn't approve of) for a good, five minutes now, ever since she found out that Barry knows about Oliver's _favorite_ _pastime._ And, as nice and cute as Felicity may be, he _refuses_ to say yes to that. 

 

"I'm here on official police business," Barry affirms, swirling a chemical mixture in a beaker, "I want nothing to do with the Vigilante."

 

"The  _Arrow_ ," Felicity corrects, exasperated. She walks away from her computer and asks, "Besides, what's going on between you and Oliver?"

 

Felicity is nice. Felicity is pretty. And it is very difficult to  _not like_  Felicity. So Barry has no choice but to tell her the whole truth. It feels good, confining in someone. He couldn't do it with Laurel or Tommy; he'd be running the risk of losing his friendship with them. He wanted to tell Iris, but what if it only ended up pushing her away? 

 

"Well," Felicity says finally, "It sounds to me like you're trying to hate him when all you really want to do is reconcile with him." 

 

" _Reconcile?_ " Barry laughs, although he knows Felicity can see right through it, "Oliver ruined any chance of forgiveness. Killing someone for you seems sweet in the movies, but  _trust me_ , it's not so fun in real life." _  
_

Felicity frowns. "Have you ever thought that Oliver would sleep better with you alive and Count Vertigo dead than the other way around?"

 

Barry doesn't have a rebuttal for that one. But he does ask, "Felicity, what really happened to Oliver on that island?"

 

Felicity's smile is small and sad. "You're gonna have to ask Oliver that yourself, Barry."

* * *

 Felicity is asking Barry to be her plus one at a party at the Queen mansion when Diggle storms into the room, a cold expression on his face, Oliver close behind.

 

"You aren't who you say you are," Diggle speaks up in his strong, harsh tone, and Barry feels like a mouse trapped in a corner. Felicity is looking up at him with eyes that asks  _What is he talking about_ and Oliver's eyes are soft with--sympathy? Oh God,  _anything_ but sympathy.

 

"Barry." Oliver sounds like he's speaking to a child who got caught lying about who took the last cookie. "There is no similar case in Central City, right?"

 

And suddenly, Barry is angry because  _isn't he supposed to be on_ my  _side? He_ killed  _for me, and now he thinks I'm_ up to something _?_ "If you're suggesting that I stole the centrifuge, then you two would be sadly mistaken."

 

"I never said that," Oliver says, keeping his voice steady. He sounds like he's trying not to yell. "We just want to know why you're  _really_ here."

 

"Well I'm  _not_ here for you," Barry spits, and finds both pleasure and pain in the way Oliver's face hardens. "You know the story too, don't you? How  _my mother was murdered right before my eyes by a yellow blur_? And how  _no one believed me when I said that_? All I want to do is solve this case. Maybe then I'll be able to figure out who killed my mom and get my dad out of prison! But you don't care about that, do you? Have you  _ever_ cared about me, and how I felt?" When Oliver doesn't--can't--answer, Barry takes it upon himself to apologize to Felicity. 

 

She'll have to find a new plus one.

 

He is kind enough (or rather, _connected to the Arrow_  enough) to leave all of his and Felicity's evidence on the case in Starling. His name is Cyrus Gold. His muscles are as dense as common concrete. And, not included in the evidence package, Barry is extremely worried that Oliver can't stop him. 

 

Still, as he sits alone in the train station (he missed the last train to Central City, just his luck) he can't help but linger on Felicity's words. 

 

_It sounds to me like you're trying to hate him when all you really want to do is reconcile with him._

 

_Have you ever thought that Oliver would sleep better with you alive and Count Vertigo dead than the other way around?_

 

He's mad now, but what if he's hasn't been for the past few months? He's distracted himself, thrown himself into his mother's case, but what if he's avoiding the real question:  _Am I still in love with Oliver Queen?_

 

These are his last thoughts before there's a sharp pain in his neck and the sudden drowsiness pulls him into a dreamless slumber. 

 

When he wakes, he finds Oliver's body lying unmoving on a flat metal table. He looks dead. Confusion, then terror races through his body.  _I've lost him again. And he died thinking I_ hated _him._

 

Barry is grateful that Felicity blocks his view of Oliver's body. But when she says, "I need you to help me save my friend," the terror comes surging through his blood again. He has to save him.

 

He has to save his best friend.

 

He has to save the love of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to credit anonymous user "TG" for the lines "Same old Barry Allen," and "Wish I could same the same about you, Ollie." Thanks hun. Also, sorry there isn't a ton of jealous Oliver in this one like I promised, I found a better place to put it. Sorry! 
> 
> Chapter title is borrowed from Fall Out Boy's "Fourth of July," which supplied me with the sadness I needed to write this chapter.


	5. Just Keep Losing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had absolutely no clue what to do with this chapter, so this is the result. Sorry if it sucks. Takes place during "Three Ghosts" and Oliver POV at the end, yay!

It's after thinning out his blood with rat poison and saving his life when he allows himself to trace when the once uncomplicated relationship between Barry Allen and Oliver Queen turned sour.

  1. Barry developed romantic feelings towards him. That was the start of it all, really.
  2. Oliver decides that he could kill two birds with one stone (take advantage of him _and_ cheat on Laurel) by trying to have sex with Barry. Barry almost lets him.
  3. Oliver goes on a boat to China and "dies." That one hurt a lot.
  4. Barry leaves everyone he cared out in Starling and moves to Central City. Hurt people hurt people, as the old saying goes.
  5. Oliver is found alive, comes back and asks for forgiveness. Barry graciously accepts.
  6. Oliver becomes a vigilante. He puts on a green hood and shoots people with arrow. He's a hero now!
  7. Then he kills someone. For Barry. And Barry's shocked because  _his best friend is a murderer!!!_ ~~(Now that he thinks about it, he still qualifies as a hero.)~~
  8. Barry shoves Oliver away. What else was he supposed to do?
  9. Barry has no choice but to interact with Oliver again. It's for his mother. Although he makes the fatal mistake of not admitting that. Stupid pride.
  10. Oliver almost dies again, and Barry saves him. And he realizes that he's _super duper_ not over Oliver Queen.



That's the simplified, light version. And, in most of these cases, Barry was the one who was wrong. He was angry, and confused. It wasn't his fault that he's bisexual and fell for a guy who was destined to save his city in a green hood, right? 

 

But it  _is_ his fault that he didn't talk to Oliver at all. He only bottled up his feelings because he thought it would be easier to hate him--which is totally inaccuratebecause  _Oliver Queen almost died thinking that Barry hated him and that isn't the case at all whatsoever._ Barry now knows what he has to do--he has to sit down with Oliver and solve all of this once and for all.

 

He can't do that now, though. Not when Oliver's hallucinating.

 

 _It's normal. It's a side effect of the rat poison. It'll pass._ These are the thoughts that soothe Barry as he takes a bit of Oliver's blood for analysis. Science has yet to fail him, and he'd be damned if it failed him now. Oliver's arm is tense, and _wow_ , he hasn't had physical contact, platonic or otherwise, with Oliver in so long. He missed it, _a lot_. 

 

And of course his stupid brain tells him that he wants more--he _needs_ more.

 

"Don't worry," Barry tells Felicity, "I'll figure out what's wrong with Oliver."

 

Felicity scoffs. "You'd be the first."

 

Oliver now reminds Barry of an old book, the pages yellow and the words faded. Years of abuse leaves some pages torn and you can never fully read him because some of the pages are stuck together.

 

But Barry likes to read, and one he starts a book, he always finishes it.

* * *

 "There's nothing in your blood," Barry pipes up when he and Oliver are alone in the Arrow Cave. Oliver's fiddling with an arrow. There's an awkward silence. No one said that change would be easy.

 

"I know," Oliver responds, not looking at Barry, "You told me it was mental."

 

"What have you been doing to keep your mind sharp?" 

 

Oliver frowns. "If I told you, you wouldn't be too happy with me."

 

"Well, call me a changed person," Barry responds with a smile, "Saving your best friend's life really makes you reevaluate your relationship with them, especially when you tried to hate them so much."

 

It takes a moment before Oliver gives Barry a tentative smile. _He has every right to be uncertain_ , Barry reminds himself. "Barry, I'm sorry about everything, okay? You had every reason to be angry at me."

 

"Maybe I did," Barry says, "But I've been thinking--you were right, about changing. The old Oliver Queen wouldn't have even  _thought_ of picking up that bow and arrow, let alone using it to help people."

 

Oliver opens his mouth to speak, but Felicity is racing down the stairs exclaiming, "I've got a lead on Cyrus Gold!"

 

Barry watches silently as Oliver is briefed on the mission and is just as silent as he suits up and leaves. Duty calls. He has a city to save.

* * *

 Captain Singh demanded that Barry came back. He actually demanded that yesterday, but he got held up saving Oliver's life. But now he  _really_ needs to go--the Particle Accelerator is being turned on and Barry _refuses_ to be late for that. He's been looking forward to it for too long.

 

He almost doesn't say goodbye, maybe because he doesn't know what to say. They're on good terms now, aren't they? But he's got something to give him, and something to tell him too.

 

"So you're going back?" Oliver says, and Barry nods.

 

"The Particle Accelerator is being turned on today. I can't miss that. You know me and my science."

 

"Yes, I do."

 

There's a silence, not awkward, but still weird. Barry doesn't like it when there's silence between them. They have too many things to say to each other.

 

"Speaking of silence-" Barry pulls a box from behind his back, "The grease paint thing is a poor identity concealer. And since i figured that you would prefer something that conforms to your face perfectly without affecting your ability to aim, I made you  _this_." He watches a bit too eagerly as Oliver takes the box and opens it. "It's a mask. Made it myself out of some compressible microfabrics. And it's green. Your favorite color."

 

Oliver chuckles. "Thank you, Barry. I couldn't possibly imagine you making this for you a week ago."

 

Barry's voice is low when he says, "A lot can change in a week."

 

"I saw Tommy earlier. He told me I...I was more than a murderer, that I was a hero." Oliver puts the mask down. "But that doesn't change the past. I _was_ a killer."   

 

Barry smiles. "That’s like saying Leonardo da Vinci was just a painter." That one gets a good laugh from Oliver, and he remembers that he hasn't heard Oliver laugh in a while either. What else has he missed out on? 

 

 _His kiss_ , his brain thinks stupidly,  _You_ really  _missed his kiss._

 

Barry  _did_ miss his kiss, but it's not like he's going to kiss him now. That would be pushing things, right?

 

Oliver didn't think so, apparently. Because before Barry had the time to work out a proper goodbye, Oliver had pressed his lips onto Barry's.

 

He _must_ have gotten injected with Vertigo, or he must been in a deep sleep, because Oliver was  _not_ kissing him, and Barry was not  _aching_ for it. But Oliver's mouth pressed more firmly against his, and then their lips parted slightly and _yes_ , this was _very_ real.

 

It was so different from the first time they kissed, where everything was fast and messy and wrong. Oliver's hands rest gently on Barry's side while Barry grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him closer. It's like this for a moment--slow and satisfying until they part as slowly as they began.

 

"You have to go," Oliver whispers, "And I'm sure you get that it has nothing to do with that Accelerator thing that you're so excited about."

 

It all makes sense now, why Oliver let Barry leave his life without so much as a protest. He thinks that can't love Barry, at least, not in the way that Barry wants to be loved.

 

Barry want to speak up, wants to tell him that he's wrong. But Barry's so far in Central City, and Oliver has an obligation to protecting Starling. And what if another lunatic takes Barry to get to the Arrow? He saved him once--he's not going to be the reason that Oliver kills again.

 

So he says, "Bye Oliver. Enjoy the mask."

 

Oliver's "Bye Barry," is so low that Barry barely catches it. There' nothing else to say--not now, at least--so Barry makes a beeline to the exit before his emotions betray him and he cries.

* * *

 It's almost midnight when Oliver gets the news. 

 

Felicity says it like he knows what his reaction will be. Maybe she does. Felicity does know all.   
  


The Particle Accelerator malfunctioned. Barry was struck by lightning. He's in a coma. And, here's the _best_ part, he's on life support and his heart stops working every once and a while.

 

Oliver spends as long as he can in the foundry. He shoots a few arrow, breaks a few glasses, curses a lot. He's not as sad as he is angry. Angry at himself.

 

Atoning for his father's sins, atoning for  _his_ sins--was it all worth losing the love of his life?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I include Oliver's recent death/resurrection in here? I just thought about it, and this fic _is_ about Barry and Oliver losing each other and finding their way back to each other. Help a sista out please. :)


	6. I Have Forgotten Nothing

It takes a while for Barry to think of Oliver. 

 

He doesn't feel _bad_ , exactly. They're are a lot of other things to worry about right now, like the laboratory he wakes up in ( _S.T.A.R. Labs_ , he thinks distantly) and the two strangers (Cisco and Caitlin) who are asking him to pee in a vial and Dr. Harrison Wells (in a wheelchair?) telling him that he's been in a coma for nine months.

 

_Nine months._

 

It's after he gets away from S.T.A.R. Labs and after he greets Joe and Iris that he thinks of Oliver's "Bye, Barry," and how, to Oliver, it must feel like his final goodbye to his best friend.  _Love of his life_ , Barry's brain happily reminds him, and it's that thought that sends his mind spiraling into a mess of what ifs-- _What if Oliver didn't even think of me? What if Oliver didn't know about the coma? What if Oliver's_ dead?

 

He needs to talk to him, to see him, but then time starts to freeze around him and his hand starts to vibrate and suddenly Oliver is the last thing on his mind.

* * *

Super speed. Barry knew it was possible, and he hardly was going to call it impossible when he has seen again and again that _impossible_ doesn't exist. But he had never expected  _him_ of all people to gain superpowers. He wasn't the only one though. When the Particle Accelerator exploded, it created other metahumans (a term that Barry expects to grow fond of soon enough) like him. 

 

He encounters one of them soon enough--a believed to be deceased bank robber named Clyde Mardon who manipulates the weather. That makes Barry's powers seem like child's play, and besides, Barry's a CSI, not a hero, or even a vigilante. But it feels like an instinct to shove Iris out of harm's way, to dash into Clyde's car, to take the wheel and flip the car, to stop this man before he hurts anyone else. He has to stay in Central and protect these people when they can't protect themselves anymore. But it's harder than he thought to do that, though, because he's creating a fog and getting away and--

 

A car crashes. The occupants die. And Barry thinks that he can't do this.  Not when no one, not even his own surrogate father, will believe anything that he says. Not when his mentor and his idol thinks that's he's nothing but a man who was struck by lightning. 

 

He can't possibly help help people when he's only good at leaving them.

* * *

Oliver almost forgot that he had Barry's number. He had hovered his thumb over the number, wondering of he should call him or not, countless times. He never did. He knew that there would be no answer.

 

Oliver would never hear Barry's voice every again.

 

He had assumed that he moved on. Between the League of Assassins and Slade Wilson being hell bent on destroying everything Oliver loves left no time to think of Barry. The only time he really could think of him was the night Slade murdered his mother, when he was trying to get sleep afterwards. He knew he couldn't, who could? But a distant voice in the back of his head had told him that,  _It could've been Barry._  Oliver felt bad instantly, but the voice got louder and louder until it was almost a scream-- _It could've been Barry._

 

And Oliver could imagine the scene--Slade driving his sword through Barry's stomach, his breathing becoming shallow, his eyes glazing over. It sent bile rising to his throat, and he had to sit up and take a few breaths before he was calm again. He shoved the thought into the back of his mind, and never thought of it again.

 

He doesn't think of Barry, he  _can't afford_ to think of Barry.

 

But all the thoughts come flooding back when he hears Barry's voice on the other end of the phone.  _It's Barry. Barry Allen. I woke up. I could use some advice._

 

He wants to spill everything right then and there, but he settles for a simple, "I'll be right there." 

 

They don't end up talking about what happened nine months ago, or what they could've been. Barry just rambles about lightning strikes and a Particle Accelerator explosion and a nine month coma and--metahumans? Super speed?  _Wanting to be a vigilante_?

 

Oliver swallows his fears. It's bad enough he's risking losing the only loved ones he has left, now Barry's saying that he's not sure if he can be like him--a vigilante? There's a nagging voice in his head saying, _He can do this. He can't be a vigilante, but he can be something better_. So that what he tells him, that he can protect and inspire Central City in a way Oliver wishes he could inspire Starling (if he was  _truly_ doing this for his city, not everyone's he's lost). 

 

Barry lets an unreadable expression settles onto his face. He says nothing, and Oliver can think of a million better places than on a rooftop in Starling City to talk about what they are, and Felicity's voice is calling in his ear, so Oliver decides to leave, although he can't go without a teasing, "Take your own advice. Wear a mask."

 

Oliver's worried that the joke would only make things more awkward, but Barry only smiles. 

 

Oliver thinks this a lot, but he can't let it go.  _He really likes his smile._

* * *

Barry knows better than to expect to see Oliver. But the thing is, he feels like Oliver's  _consciously avoiding him_.

 

Sure, Central City is miles away, and Barry can't think of a good reason for Oliver to visit anyway. Besides-- _you-know-what_ \--nine months ago, and God knows that Barry can't talk about that, not now anyway.

 

So imagine Barry's surprise when _Felicity_ comes over for a visit. It's surprising, and Barry suspects that Oliver needs something, but _no_! Felicity claims that it's a _friendly visit_ and  _she wanted to see if he was okay_! Barry knew deep down that she wasn't lying, but he also knew that there was something else to it. Still, he doesn't end up thinking about Oliver during Felicity's visit--cold guns made specifically to kill Barry replaces _you-know-what_ 's spot at the forefront of his mind. It's when Felicity is heading out on a train to Starling when she brings up Oliver.

 

"Why aren't you two talking?" she asks suddenly, and Barry's silence says more than any answer ever could. "You two talked didn't you? Before the lightning strike."

 

"Well, we  _did_ talk..." Barry rubs the back of his neck and chuckles. "We, um, we also kissed, maybe..."

 

This time, Felicity chuckles. "You two are really good at making things more complicated then they need to be."

 

Barry frowns. "You're saying that this shouldn't be complicated?"

 

"No," Felicity answers, "I'm saying that if two people really love each other, then there's nothing that can stop them from getting together. Especially when they've loved each other for as long as you two have."

 

"I didn't think that Oliver felt the same way."

 

"He did. He told me. I guess he was just as good at hiding as you were." Felicity's voice takes a soft turn when she says, "He really wants to talk to you. About everything."

 

Barry sighs. _Can_ they talk now, what with everything that's happened so far? He decides to say, "I just don't know how to talk to him right now."

 

Felicity rubs Barry's shoulder. It's a surprisingly comforting gesture. "Like I said, it'll happen. Just give it some time."

 

There's a comfortable silence, then Barry asks, "He's stalking me, isn't he?" There probably could've been a better way to put that, so he adds, "You know, sending you over on a  _friendly visit_."

 

It was meant to be a joke before he had added that. And it now takes a more serious tone when Felicity says, "He just wants to make sure you're safe."

 

This whole "not getting mad at Oliver" thing? _Way_ harder than he thought. Why couldn't he do that himself? If he loved him so much, why won't he tell him himself?  _Why, why why?_

 

Barry says nothing but a bitter goodbye before races off. 

* * *

It didn't take long for Oliver to show up in Central City after that. A metahuman who makes people ridiculously angry has just turned a cop against them, and before Barry could think of what to do there's an arrow in each shoulder. Barry turns and there he is--the Arrow and all his glory, telling him, "Nice mask," before making an acrobatic escape. Barry's smiling like the lovestruck puppy he is because _Oliver's here_! _Oliver here for_ him!

 

He hates to leave Joe alone without checking on him to see if he's okay, but he has some unfinished business to take care of, so he zips off. When they finally meet again (man, motorcycles are  _slow_ ), Barry can cut through the tension between them with a knife. Still, with Felicity and Diggle around, Barry decides not to bring up  _you-know-what_ and instead thanks him for showing up. Although he does add that he had that, because  _God_ if he's here with his bullshit "here to protect you" excuse--

 

Oliver nods, and there's a hint of--amusement?--in his, "Uh-huh."

 

"What? I was getting ready to make my move!"

 

Oliver laughs, and he sounds anything but amused. "What move? The one to the morgue?" It's meant to be a joke--at least Barry thinks it is. He can hear the concern behind it.

 

Felicity explains why they're here, and it seems like it has nothing to do with Barry at all. Felicity smoothly pulls out a boomerang in an evidence bag and says they're tracking a guy who uses them as weapons. Barry steals a glance at Oliver and notices that he's staring intently at the floor. 

He only looks up after Barry suggests a team up, to which he responds with an emphatic, "No. We'll handle our business and head home."

 

Felicity's rebuttal is that they need Barry's team to analyze the boomerang, but Barry's not listening to a word. Because now Barry has absolutely no clue what Oliver thinks he doing. Wouldn't teaming up with Barry help Oliver keep an eye on him? Then he remembers Oliver's final words to him before the lightning strike.

 

_You have to go...And I'm sure you get that it has nothing to do with that Accelerator thing that you're so excited about._

 

It's been nine whole months, and nothing's changed. Oliver's still scared. And Barry knows now that the choosing to avoid talking about the kiss (has he really been calling it you-know-what in his head?) was the wrong decision.

 

It's after Felicity's speech when Barry speeds Felicity to STAR Labs. Suddenly, he's had enough of Oliver's crap for one night.

* * *

 To say that big, broody Oliver Queen in Jitter's was a strange and unfamiliar sight would be an understatement. Not to mention Oliver's vigilante-face, which stood out from everyone else's smiling, happy faces.  _And_ the fact that Oliver called him here with information on the metahuman Barry's been after. Barry doesn't know what he was expecting, though. A cute coffee date? He thinks that they've past that point a long time back.

 

When Barry gets close enough to the table, Oliver gets straight to the point. "The bad guy that you're after, the one who robbed the bank, his name is Roy G. Bivolo."

 

"Thanks," Barry says. He's smiling again, and this whole _I'm mad at Oliver_ thing is harder than he thought. "How did you find that out?" Oliver looks away, and Barry's smile fizzles away. Well, this whole  _I'm mad at Oliver_  thing is surprisingly easy sometimes too. "The guys still _alive_ , right?" Oliver looks up at him then, almost as if to warn him. Almost as if to say  _don't_. "I'm just asking," Barry adds nervously. He wants to add  _I don't think you killed him. You changed for me_ , but he feels that adding that would make things way worse than they already are. But he does add, "I thought you didn't want to help."

 

"I'm not," Oliver snaps. More gently he adds, "It's just a name."

 

Eventually, "just a name"becomes "okay, we'll help you catch your bad guy _."_ Felicity wants Barry to have Oliver's help, and Barry  _thinks_ that he wants Oliver's help, but Oliver knows better. Barry _thinks_ this is a good, just like Barry  _thinks_ that they can be together. But Oliver's messed things up between them, and it never going to be the same, whether they are teammates or not.

 

That's not to say that Oliver will stay way. They've been through too much for that to happen again.

* * *

 "We're here to train."

 

"What? Like Rocky?"

 

Letting go of Barry is going to be hard, especially with him saying cute stuff like that. But still, this is serious, so Oliver gives Barry a stern look before continuing. 

 

Barry can do this, Oliver knows it. Barry's brave, selfless--everything a hero should be. But he's also reckless, bold--something that Barry has always been. Not permanent qualities, Oliver knows--he was reckless and bold during his first year or so on the island. But with some training, and some real-life lessons, (Oliver knows Barry too well. He knows better than to believe that Barry would listen to Oliver ramble on about surveying surrounding, doing his research and whatnot) Oliver became more focused and poised. And Barry can do the same.

 

"I read your friend Iris' blog posts on the Flash, and I visited all the crime scenes you fought at."

 

"Don't you sleep?"

 

Oliver continues on as if Barry hadn't spoken. Maybe he'll understand then that he's not playing. "Last month, you took on a man named Leonard Snart."

 

"We call him Captain Cold."

 

"We can talk about you giving your enemies silly codenames later."

 

"What? You mean over dinner with Deathstroke and the Huntress?"

 

Maybe, if Oliver was not the person he is now, he would be joking around like Barry is. Maybe, if he had not been condemned to five years in hell, and hadn't single-handedly shoved away everyone he cares about, maybe he'd call name is villains Captain Cold too.

 

But there isn't any room for maybes. Not now. Not when Barry's _life_ is on the line. 

 

"Barry, when you approach a new environment, do you case every inch of it?” Oliver stops and looks him straight in the eye. They're young, dark green--Oliver has always loved those eyes. He almost doesn't continue, but imagining the light fading out of those eyes as Barry dies keeps Oliver going. "You could. You have the time. But you don't."

 

He turns away now, and he can feel Barry dismissing his words like the stubborn bonehead that he is. "You're going to run over there, you're going to come back at me, and you're going to get hit with an arrow," Oliver tells him.

 

Barry laughs, and Oliver holds back a scream. "No, I'm not.”

 

Oliver laughs. It's meant to be mocking, but it comes out harsh. He just wants-- _needs_ \--Barry to learn. "Yes, you are."

 

So Barry runs away from Oliver, waits for his cue, then runs back. He catches the arrow Oliver has aimed at him, but gets hit from behind with the two remote controlled arrows he has aimed at his back. 

 

"You shot me?" Barry sounds pained, shocked, betrayed.

 

"I heard you heal fast." And Oliver yanks the arrows out. 

 

Barry has to learn patience and control. He'll learn it sooner or later. Hopefully, he won't learn it _too_ late, but Barry's a fast thinker. But if the arrows Oliver put in Barry's back don't beat it into his head, what will?

* * *

Turns out, turning into one of Bivolo's rage pawns will.

 

Barry had done exactly what Oliver had been instructing him  _not_ to do. He went to Bivolo's hideout _alone_. He's aggressive, Oliver can tell.

 

Because his voice doesn't sound like his own when he says, "I finally see it. Who would've guessed that the rich, handsome Oliver Queen is a  _coward_? I know what you want--you want  _me_. But you're too scared to admit it. That's the real reason why we're pretending that kiss nine months ago never happened. Not because it's dangerous, or because we're too far apart. It's because the Arrow has a yellow spine."

 

Oliver's sure that Barry can hear his heart pounding in his chest. Yet he keeps a straight face as he says, "I told Felicity you didn't want my help." His voice is calm, restrained. 

 

But Barry's voice is anything but as he says, "Yeah? Well you're finally right about something.," before sulking off.

* * *

Oliver's head is full of what-ifs. There's so many things that could go wrong, and it all comes back to Barry. What if he can't be saved? What if Wells and Joe don't make it in time? What if Barry's gone for good? What if Oliver has to hurt--has to _kill_ Barry? 

 

 _That's not going to be an option_ , Oliver thinks.

 

But for a moment, it appears that it might have to be. He may have underestimated Barry--he's fast (obviously) but he was not expecting Barry's strength and combat skills. He hears Felicity's stern, "Oliver get up," and he sees the red flashing in Barry's eyes, and Oliver thinks nothing but _he has to stop him_ , _he_ has _to stop him_.

 

"I still believe in you, Barry." The words come out as a plea, but Oliver knows that the phrase is only a fraction of the truth he can say right now. The red flashes. _He has to stop him._

 

He does, eventually--Oliver will never have to find the answers to his what if questions. "This is gonna be a special kind of hangover," Barry says, and he's smiling again. Oliver's smiling too, but he's not exactly happy. Barry's bitter words are taking their toll, and Oliver thinks that a discussion is way overdue.

 

But Oliver instead puts an arm around Barry's shoulder and helps him to the van. They still have their metahuman to catch. 

* * *

"I'm sorry, for everything I said. I wish I could say that it was whatever Bivolo did to me. But I guess I had more feeling bottled up than I thought." Barry remembers what he said, what he did, and he still winces every time he thinks of it. Oliver is anything  _but_ a coward. He can't even imagine what could've happened to him on that island that would make him willing to shut people out for _their own_ safety. If anything,  _Barry's_ the coward. He's the one who can't bring up the subject, he's the one who can't admit his feelings. 

 

"Hey. You can  _always_ talk to me."

 

There's a steely edge to Oliver's tone, and the way he's staring Barry directly in his eyes makes Barry want to spill everything now. But he settles for, "We're doing a really good job at not talking about how we feel." Oliver frowns. "Not what I said earlier. That's not how I _really_ feel."

 

"You were right." Oliver takes a deep breath. "I am scared. You know who I am, what I do, what I'm capable of. I'm afraid you'll run away."

 

Barry must be feeling bold, because he actually laughs at that one. "You've changed. Sure, you may have done some bad things. But I know who you really are, Oliver, and turst me. I won't run away."

 

Too soon, Felicity and Iris is heading over to their table, and Barry knows that it's time to go. The goodbyes are too fast to him, but it's not like he won't see him again, right? Barry can't be sure of  _anything_ when it comes to their relationship, however, and that's his excuse when he calls Caitlin and asks her, "Do you have any plans tommorrow night?" **  
**

 

"No," is Caitlin's response, and he can hear the confusion in her voice. "Why?"

 

Barry is pretty sure that Dr. Wells would have a heart attack if he were here and could read Barry's mind right now . Caitlin can hear him smiling over the phone. "How do you feel about some  _unsanctioned_ vacation time?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long! There's more Oliver POV in this one, as well as quotes from the episodes, so no plagiarism intended. The chapter title is from the quote "But the heart has its own memory, and I have forgotten nothing," by Albert Camus from _The Fall_. 
> 
> Leave some feedback if you wanna! :)

**Author's Note:**

> It was super hard to decide if this was going to be a one-shot or a chapter fic, but I chose the latter when I realized that I was way too invested in this AU. So, there's more to come! Also, the ending is rushed, but oh well.


End file.
